Broken Memory
by Genetically Empowered
Summary: OneShot. If you’ve ever seen a photograph, one taken quickly, and the focus is all blurred. A picture that might be a man, or it could be your sister’s Ken doll…that was the state of Claire’s mind.


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A Broken Memory

By: Lucki

It was infuriating to not know which way was where.

It seemed as if she had been running for years. When, in reality, she'd only been running a day or so. Maybe. If she thought back on the latest events…she only recalled the sun setting once…and rising again far too long afterward. Or was it twice? Who really knew anymore.

Sometimes she couldn't remember what it was she was running away from…or where she was running to. All Claire knew was that she was to get away from where she was, and get to someplace else. Someplace that held something that resembled safety. All that really mattered was getting _away_. Occasionally, she would hear muffled voices, whispered words. She would remember then what she was running from.

_Ethan_.

He wanted the child that she had once so desperately wanted to give away. Now she would give anything to make certain she could hold onto him forever. So much had been sacrificed for the child's safety.

_Charlie_.

Sometimes she didn't understand why the name would float into her memory. Had it been a name she'd chosen for the child? Thomas was the father, she remembered that much. What reason was there for her to think of Charlie?

Sometimes she would remember. In fits of hysteria, when everything seemed to blur together and nothing seemed to make sense- He did. Charlie with the goofy smile and bright blue eyes. Charlie, who always seemed a little twitchy, but could make her smile through anything. Charlie…who counted on sugar plum faeries.

But her clarity never lasted long. The moment the hysteria faded, the moment her fuzzy panic faded and reality set in, Charlie was gone and she was left wondering if perhaps she had made all the out-of-focus memories up.

She dreamt once. She had fallen over in sheer exhaustion and sleep claimed her before she'd convinced herself that resting was a horrible idea. In her mind, she was standing on the beach, the roar of the ocean a sound she could actually remember. Hanging clothes on some makeshift wire, though it never occurred to her why she wasn't drying them in a dryer. Not in her dreams, at least. Charlie was there. And everything smelt of bacon.

But then things changed. She would scream, and no one would answer. Ethan's face came into view. Others she couldn't see.

Charlie hanging in the air, gasping and making that horrid guttural choking sound a person makes when oxygen can't get far enough in. And then the most horrific part…when those noises stopped, and he just swung.

Her scream had woken her up, and left her wondering what exactly the ocean sounded like.

She couldn't recall the sound of anything but her erratic breathing. And, of course, the sound of something else crashing through the foliage. Those sounds she knew well. But the sound of a kind voice, the sound of a laugh? She couldn't recall them. Nor the taste of fresh water, or bread. She never thought she'd crave bread the way she was now.

And peanut butter. Something about the craving she got for peanut butter was different from the other feelings and emotions that bombarded her. Something…or someone. Peanut butter made her heart hurt. She couldn't really recall why anymore. But it made her long for something, not just the food…but for something more.

Her baby had been kicking frantically in protest at first. She'd clawed Ethan viciously and managed to get away into the jungle. If Claire loathed the jungle, she loved it as well. Getting lost was such an easy thing to do. A curse and a blessing. The rain had helped immensely. And Claire would be thankful for tropical weather, only to wonder where exactly she was that would have such a climate.

Her baby hadn't been moving so much anymore. Kicks were a rarity, and sometimes, when the numbness was at it's peak, Claire wouldn't even remember she was pregnant. She'd forget that her swollen belly housed a coveted life, and she never would recall that someone had already died because of it. A kick, or a moment of hysterical clarity would bring it all back, though. All but the part about Charlie.

If you've ever seen a photograph, one taken quickly, and the focus is all blurred. A picture that might be a man, or it could be your sister's Ken doll…that was the state of Claire's mind. Sometimes she'd think about airplanes, and you all everybody…but she never could figure out what about flying was so memorable, or who she was addressing.

When night fell the second time, she began to run again. Something about the trees, something about the area, it made her want to hurry, to rush forward. Claire felt that, if she were to tarry, she may not make it at all. A dog's bark, a man's voice. Hysteria began to set in. Something that she dreaded and embraced.

One sugar plum faerie…

Two sugar plum faerie…

You don't scare me…

"Vincent!"

Claire continued moving forward, her breathing barely audible, and her footsteps heavy.

"Vincent, is that you?"

She swatted in vain at the foliage around her, trying to get away. For a panic-ridden instant, Claire frozen, afraid that when she stepped through the rest of the leaves and vines, she'd run directly into what she'd been running from. But the curiosity of perhaps finding what she'd been running _to_ overcame her and she pushed through and found herself coming out into a pathway of sorts.

_I won't let anything happen to you_-

"Claire?"

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Meh….it's not my best, by far. I hope you guys liked it though. shrugs

My grammar sucks. I know. Leave me alone.

Disclaimer: (yeah, it's at the end.) I don't own LOST. It wasn't my idea. The actors aren't my friends. If you want to sue me…all you'll get is the toy I found in my Apple Jacks this morning.

9;


End file.
